


Fates Desire

by fonduaunoir, Josiefeathergirl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bullying, Depression, Minor Jake/Jane, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 07:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonduaunoir/pseuds/fonduaunoir, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josiefeathergirl/pseuds/Josiefeathergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being alone for too long left Jake English just wanting to die, but he finds himself swept off to New York and attending a private high school instead. There he meets Dirk, Jane, and Roxy. They all are great friends, but can they fill the hole in his heart that has been empty for so long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ==> Enter Jake English

**Author's Note:**

> My first work on here! Woo! Comments appreciated and enjoy!

Loneliness.

It penetrates your brain.  
Longing.  
It beats through your veins.

Your name is Jake English and today happens to be your fifthteenth birthday. You don't celebrate it like most kids do in the movies; instead you walk down the old dirt path through the jungle. You don't leap or laugh; your face is sober with mourning as you enter the frog temple covered in vines and overgrown brush

Standing at the entrance you take a deep breath and close your eyes. Sometimes you feel like she's still here. Taking another deep breath you grip the flowers in your right hand and open your green eyes. Slowly you will your legs to take small steps and move you into the heart of the temple.

You kneel down before the simple box. Your breath hitches in your throat as you gently set down the flowers you brought her. You sit there in the dim light and close your eyes. Tears streak from under your eyelids as you fill your mind with memories of her. She was the only person who ever loved you. She was the only person you have met or hugged or loved.

"I miss you grandma." You whisper to the air. Though you've acquired a nasty, almost schizophrenic habit of holding conversations with yourself, you know you're not talking to thin air.

She's there. You can feel it. You know it. She would never leave you all alone. With no one to talk to. No one to go on adventures with. No one to smile at. No one to hold when you're afraid. No one. She would never do that.

Your hands tremble as you bring them up to wipe your eyes. You're fifteen now; too old to be crying like this. You tell yourself this every year, but every year tears still stream down your face. Instead of crying less, you start to cry more.

The longer she's gone, the more the loneliness sets in. It keeps burrowing, deeper and deeper until you can't shake it off anymore. You can't lie anymore. Even the few friends you have now know. They noticed it. So you stopped talking to them. They say they worry, but they don't know you. No one knows you. Why would they care what happens to you? You could probably disappear and they would never notice.

Your fists pound against the hard stone and a loud thump echoes throughout the temple. Not now. You are not having these thoughts now. Today you always spend with your grandma; it's not going to be ruined by these pesky thoughts that plague your brain of late.

You take deep breaths, but your body shakes in sobbing fits. Oh, how much you want to see her again. To hug her and have her murmur in your ear about how everything is going to be okay. How much you need it to be okay.

You rise shakily to your legs and stumble out of the temple. You were wrong. You can't do this. Not today. You pull off your glasses as you run away and wipe frantically at your eyes trying to see straight. Stumbling into a clearing you fall back to your knees. You can't do it.

Finding your self in a sobbing fit again, you look over the bluff to the ocean down below.

_No, no, no, no! Don't even think that!_

"B-but I would be able to see her again. Wouldn't I? I-i wouldn't be so alone anymore."

Glasses forgotten you crawl over to the edge and look over. It's not that far of a drop, but the sharp rocks below make you shudder.

"It wouldn't hurt." You try to convince yourself quietly.

_Yes it would. Don't try it._

"Living here hurts though. The pain wouldn't last as long."

_You have friends to say goodbye to. They would miss you._

"No I don't. I don't want to bother them. They won't notice."

_Yes! They will! They will notice! They love you! Can't you see? You're not alone! Don't do it!_

"No," You whimper as you scoot closer to the edge. "The afterlife is the only place I haven't explored. Maybe there is an adventure there waiting for me," You force yourself to smile weakly, "Maybe I won't alone."

_Don't do it._

"I just want to see…" you bargain hopelessly.

_You can't take it back once it's been done. Don't do it!_

You take a deep breath, "I would be happier."

_No you wouldn't! Don't do it!_

"I would be able to see her."

_No! St-_

__

You block out the annoying voice. "I would be loved."

_Don't-_

"I wouldn't be alone."

_Don_

"Or scared."

_D-_

"I could make friends.  
I wouldn't be in pain.  
I could explore.  
Learn new things!" Your vision blurs with tears as you start to lean forward, so you close your eyes, "I don't have to continue on."

"Don't! No! Stop!"

You jump and someone grabs your arm. That wasn't in your head. You just heard somebody speak to you.

And you notice you're falling.

Onto the ground behind you.

You're on the ground and a figure's on top of you. You can't see. You cry out for help, but stop when you realize there is nobody to help you. You're alone. You fight to get free from the figures grasp, slamming your head against the ground. A sharp pain goes through your head and slowly you lose your strength to the pain.

\------------

You've given up.

Your head throbs.

That's your first thought returning to consciousness.

Your second thought; why am I not dead at the bottom of the ocean.

Opening your eyes you look around. You're in your room, but you can't make out much more than that without your glasses. What happened to those?

You attempt to sit up, but your joints freeze up when pain shoots through your body. Bringing your hands up to your head, you realize there is a bandage wrapped around it.  
What?

Your heart rate picks up. You sit up in a panic and ignore the pain. The memory comes back to you. Someone's here. On your island, and they have to be around here somewhere. But before you can do anything about it, you have to find your glasses.  
Grabbing a pistol off your nightstand you stagger out of your room. Are your glasses still outside? You groan. Do you seriously have to go outside to get them? They could be anywhere!

You sigh and try to navigate the staircase. Small, slow, steps and you should be fine.

No such luck.

Before you can react you slip and start to tumble down the stairs. You bring your arms up to your head protectively and shut your eyes, but you don't fall. Instead you feel someone's arms wrap around you and drag your shocked, limp, body back up to the landing.

"Boy, you are a lot of trouble." A sweet female voice huffs from above you.

"Then why do you bother?"

You feel her kneel down beside you and slowly remove your arms from your face. "Why don't you open your eyes?"

"I believe I asked you a question first."

"It's decency. I come to your island uninvited; I feel I should at least try to keep you alive during my stay."

"You should have let me die."

"Could you open your eyes now?"

"They don't do me much good without my glasses." You state as you open them and look at the stranger above you. You can't make out much but her long brown hair and black tee-shirt, a tan overcoat covering her arms.

"Your glasses?" She asks, "You weren't wearing glasses when I found you."

"Oh for the love of father Christmas," You mumble. "They could be anywhere."

"Don't worry, I'll go find them." She sighs and stands up.

"Oh, no!" You interject quickly. "You don't have to do that!"

"Yes I do. You can't do it yourself, so that means I have to do it."

"I am perfectly capable of-"

"No," She cuts you off. "You can't make it down a staircase. You're in no way fit to go off exploring through the jungle."

You open your mouth to protest, but she pulls you up and pushes you back to your room before you can.

"Go back to sleep."

You don't try to protest as you lay back down in your bed. It only takes moments for sleep to take you as your head makes contact with your pillow.

The next time you wake up you can see clearly. Your head still pounds, but you can manage to sit up without much difficulty. You reach a hand up to your face to fix your askew glasses and look around your room. Everything seems to be in order, except the first aid contents strewn throughout the room.

Noticing used bandages in the garbage you wonder how long you have been unconscious. She is quite the lady for taking care of you after what she saw, you think to yourself. She's practically nursed you back to perfect health. Even your wrists look better. You thought they would scar terribly, what with the way you've been treating them. She walks in as you are examining yourself and you jump at her sudden appearance.

"It's about time you woke up." She says putting down a tray of soup, water, and medication.  
You nod slowly, "I guess I owe you a well deserved thanks. You were under no obligation to help me, but it is greatly appreciated," You look back down at your hands and examine the rough skin.

"I already told you, it's a moral duty. You probably would have done the same."

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye to her smiling kindly and sitting down in a chair that was pulled up to your bed. Turning your focus back to your hands you just sit there. You have never talked to anybody in person, besides your grandma. It's different than typing. You have read their reactions along with the words they speak. It's unusual and you're not quite sure if you like it.

"Aradia," You look up startled from your thoughts to see her hand extended towards you, "I never got a chance to properly introduce myself," She says in her sweet voice.

After a moment you take your hand out of the blankets and grab her hand lightly afraid of possibly crushing her hand, but she grasps your hand much tighter than you expect, "Jake English. Pleasure to meet you Aradia."

Aradia releases your hand and props her chin up with her fist while crossing her legs. "So Jake English," She starts quizzically, " What exactly are you doing on an uninhabited island all by yourself?"

You shrug, "Looking for an adventure I guess. But it's not uninhabited if I live here, right?"

She tilts her head to the side questioningly. "You actually live here?" She asks with a little bit of wonder in her voice.

You nod, "Well, of course I do! Been here my whole life!"

She smiles in amazement, "Did you build all of this?"

Much to her disappointment you shake your head, "My grandmother and I added a little here and there, but I'm not quite sure who actually built it."

"So your grandmother lives here too?"

"Well, not anymore," You look down at your blankets hoping she will drop the subject.

"Oh," She pauses and eyes you with concern, "How long have you been alone?"

"Much too long..." You murmur forlornly.

\----------

Your name is Dirk Strider and your nap is interrupted by the teacher rapping her desk with a ruler to get everyone's attention. You stifle a yawn and open your eyes to see what the commotion is. There's a new kid. A small smirk plays across your lips.

The poor kid looks like he's never seen a class room before. He holds his backpack awkwardly as his big green eyes under his glasses dart around the classroom anxiously. He must be new to New York. Must be from a small town like you. You feel a little sympathy for the kid remembering your first day here, but not enough to actually care introducing yourself.

Leaning back in your chair, you let your eyes close again as you vaguely listen to his introduction. You listen enough to gather his name is Jake something and he is from an island in the pacific. Wow, you thought Texas was far to travel.

After more pointless introductions the kid sits down and the teacher drones on. You must have fallen back to sleep because the next thing you realize is the bell shrieking. Stretching you stand up and walk out of class, but only to be stopped by an angry looking Miss. Noir.

"Strider."

"Yes, ma'm?"

You keep your expression blank as always when she crosses her arms.

"Answer me this, how can you manage to stay in this school when you don't do anything besides sleep through your classes?"

You shrug your shoulders, "What does it matter? I get good grades, I stay in school."

She narrows her glare, "I don't care what they thought at your old school, in this school class participation is part of your success." She pauses waiting for a reaction, but when there is none she continues, "I could easily flunk you regardless of the final test scores."

Your sharp intake of breath is the reaction she's been waiting for. You can't fail. Bro was so proud when the letter arrived in the mail. He had no clue you even had the grades to apply for a private high school. You're here on full scholarship. One bad grade and you're fucked.

"You wouldn't want that mister Strider, now would you?" She asks is sickly sweet tone. You swear she would melt if you dumped water on her.

Instead you answer with a simple "No ma'm."

The witch smiles. "Now, will you consider staying awake in my class from now on?"

"Yes ma'm, I'll make sure of it." With that you try to step past her, but she stops you with a bony hand on your shoulder.

"I'm not finished Strider. I would suggest you stay a second and listen."

The last thing you want to do is stay in the same room with her and no witnesses, but grades are something you know better than to shrug off. Slowly you look up at her smiling face.

She walks over to large oak desk at the front of the room and pulls out a pen and paper. She scribbles something down and hands the paper to you. You take it cautiously and examine the numbers.

"It's an address," She says like you couldn't figure it out yourself, "His name is Jake English and he's new to the town. Go introduce yourself and make him feel at home since you were too busy sleeping during class to do that," You groan as you stare down at the address. It's only a few blocks away, but New York during the winter months is not the most fun place to go on a walk, "If you know what's good for you, you'll follow through with that request."

She smiles coldly and glares at you and you just mumble another, "Yes, ma'm," and walk out the door.

You walk around the empting hallways and delay your task. She never said you had to do it right away now did she? You suppose you could find Roxy and explain to her why you'll be home late. That should kill an hour or so shouldn't it?

When you finally do find Roxy, it's two hours later. You tear her away from shamelessly flirting with Jane, and explain to her your little dilemma.

Bravo to you.

You decide to get on with things and find this dudes house so you can spend the rest of the night chilling with some sick beats.

As you walk you decide you'll stay just long enough to introduce yourself and tell him how awesome the school is and more bullshit like that. He'll be happy and your job will be done.

You take your freezing hand out of your pocket and ring the icy brass button on the door. Who ever this kid moved in with has some serious cash living in a what, three story town house? In fucking New York.

After the bell echoes inside the house for a moment, a lady opens the door. She looks too young to be a mother, a sister maybe? She has long brown wavy hair, warm brown eyes, and tanned skin. It's obvious she just came from the kitchen with the flour particles that cover her apron and are sticking in her hair.

She smiles warmly at you, "Oh, are you a friend of Jake's?"

You shrug nonchalantly, "You could say that."

"Lovely!" She opens the door and lets you in, "And here I was afraid he wouldn't make any friends. I'm Aradia by the way."

She sticks out her hand and you shake it as you step inside, "Dirk Strider. Nice to meet you," You say with a slight nod.

Aradia lets go of your hand and motions towards the staircase to your left, "He's been upstairs doing homework since he got home. It will do him good to take a break from it for a while. Go up both the staircases and its the room on the right," You nod and start walking up the staircase, "Oh, and tell him dinner should be done in a bit. You're welcome to stay if you like."

"I'll tell him, but I don't think I should stick around that long. Thanks for the invitation though."

"Oh, okay." You hear her chime as you run up the stairs.

You come to the third floor and walk to the door on the right side of the small hallway. The room must take up most the floor by the looks of it. You knock on the door and wait impatiently. When only silence answers you let out a sigh and knock again. After another minute of silence you decide that you're not going to wait around all night for the kid to open his door, and you let yourself in.

Doing so you look around the spacious room. A bed sits in the corner next a desk and a bookshelf already half full of books. Besides that just a bunch of cardboard boxes clutter the room. The kid is nowhere to be found. You look around the room again and notice a door ajar at the other end of the room. With nowhere to look you head over to it.

You tap lightly on the door and it creaks open more. It's the bathroom. From where you stand you can see a white counter and a sink.

"Hello?" You listen to your voice bounce off the tile with no response. The light is on, so you know he was probably in here at one point. Is he trying to hide from you or something? He's not making this any easier.

Taking a deep breath you step into the bathroom. A half wall separates you from the rest of the bathroom. You peek around it and freeze at what you see. You don't need to take a step closer to tell that a young man is lying fully clothed in pink bathwater.


	2. ==> Dirk ponder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and comment! <3

"I promise you're going to love it."

You sigh and keep staring out the window at the passing buildings and the gloomy figures walking about. Ever since you got off the plane, all she could talk about was how much you were going to love the new school. Even when she was staying with you on the island, she hung around for a few weeks with you helping you sort things out; she couldn't stop telling you about her home.

To be honest, you were still overwhelmed with everything. There were so many /people/ here. And they were all so different. It was loud and everyone moved quickly and it just felt all wrong. Aradia looked over at you; her expression was one of concern.

"I know it must be hard Jake," She starts quietly, pulling to a stop in front of a large brick house, "But I promise, it does get better. You'll have all the time you need to adjust. There's no rush," she looks to you with her soft brown eyes and smiles gently.

You return it, more for her sake than the actual truth of the emotion. She steps out of the car and you follow her, stopping to admire the architecture of the house. It's an old Victorian style, from what you've seen on the Internet. It seems welcoming.

"Do you like it?" she asks, opening the trunk and pulling out your leather suitcase.

"It's... Quite a bit different," you offer, "But yes, I like it," You nod and take the bag from her.

It strikes you how light it feels, and homesickness hits you like a wave. You look down at the fresh leather, never used. This tiny suitcase contains everything you own, and in the mists of the huge city, you have never felt smaller.

"You alright Jake?" Aradia asks, squeezing your shoulder.

You nod weekly, "Just a bit overwhelmed," you assure her breathlessly.

Aradia walks up to the door, pulling a key out of her pocket and unlocking the door. You follow and set your things down in the foyer. And wow... This puts your island home to shame. Mirrors and burgundy paint cover the walls, a rich green rug beneath your feet. You feel so out of place in the shine and richness.

Aradia kicks off her shoes in the general direction of the mud room, and you carefully remove your worn boots, setting them down. You stand quietly and wait for direction as she removes her jacket. She notices you standing awkwardly, and smiles warmly.

"Make yourself at home Jake. You're going to be staying with me for a while, so my home is your home."  
You smile shakily and nod, still unsure of what to do.

"Thanks Aradia," you manage as you let your eyes start wander around the house.

"I'm going to go make some lunch," She says cheerily, heading off in the general direction of what you judge to be the kitchen. Right as you fear that she is going to leave you to wander, she pokes her head back around the corner. "You should go explore! Pick out a bedroom! Everywhere is open to you Jake. Go have an adventure," She winks at you and ducks her head back around the corner.

You grab your suitcase again, peaking at the grandfather clock in the corner. 11:30. You decide to give yourself half an hour to get acquainted with your new home.

Grabbing your suitcase you decide to go up the first flight of stairs. You'll have time to explore the first floor later. The stairs are oak and feel slippery beneath your tattered socks. You grip the banister like a lifeline. At the top of the stairs, you set your suitcase down and walk into the sitting room. It reminds you of your sunroom back at home, only instead of the green jungle, you see concrete and glass as far as the eye can see.

"Well, this is going to be quite the adventure, huh old chap," you murmur to yourself, turning around and opening the first door.

It's a bedroom, an immediately, you decide it's yours. The dark green paint and long windows are comforting. The bedspread is a deep cerulean blue, and you run your fingers across it. It's smooth and silky under your fingers. There's even a bathroom attached. You walk back to the stairs and grab your bag, dragging it into the room and setting it down on the bed. You flick open the latches and begin to remove your things.

Aradia took your pistols, rightfully so after she found you clicking the magazine in and out, talking yourself through how easy it would to shoot yourself. You would never have been left them behind so she tucked them into her purse and brought them along. Most of your suitcase is clothing, torn and ragged from your adventuring. Aradia promised you some fresh clothing and a few school uniforms. Shuffling through your bag you take out a framed picture of you and your late grandmother.

She's smiling and holding a young you on her knee. You hug the photo close until the ridged sides poke into your chest.

"Dickens do I miss you Grandma..." you murmur. You place the frame gingerly on the bedside table.

Over the next thirty minutes you unpack your things. Aradia calls you down for some lunch, noodles and cheese with green beans. It's strange and too salty but you eat it because that's the polite thing to do and you're very hungry. Then, before you know what's happening she's handing you your uniform and telling you to be ready to go in a bit.

Before you know it you're standing in front of a classroom full of kids, eyes burning into you, as you introduce yourself numbly.

"Hello, I'm Jake English..."

She said you would make friends.

She promised you wouldn't feel alone.

You believed her.

And just to make the gaping hole in your chest burrow deeper, when she asked you how your day was, you smiled emptily and assured her that it had been smashing. She had smiled back.

Standing there in that school, you wished you had shot yourself when you had the chance. The way they looked at you, like you were some idiotic, feral urchin from the streets, made you sick. It made you feel naked, judged, unwanted.

Flopping down on your bed, you borrow your face in the smell of vanilla. You feel like crying, but so numb.

"It's never gonna get better is it old chap," You tell yourself, voice breaking with the strain of holding back the tears.

Yes it will, just believe!

"No, it's not," you state dryly, "And there's really no use lying about it either,"

It's the truth!

"I'm not ignorant. I know when I don't belong," you choke out, gritting your teeth. There was no use lying to yourself. No use pretending it was going to get better.

It wasn't

For a while, you lay on the bed, wanting to curl up and pop out of existence. Why can't it all just go away?

"Enough is enough..." You murmur pulling yourself out of bed.

Don't do it

You hear the warning voice in your head again.

"I'm going to do and you're not going to stop me," You say a broken defiance in your voice.

Jake no! Don't give up!

"It's not giving up mate," you murmur, walking to the bathroom attached to your room, "It's giving in."

You numbly walk into the bathroom, digging around in the drawers, hoping to find a box cutter, a razor, a broken shard of glass. Anything. You let out a breath when your fingers close around a bag of loose razor blades. Jesus Christ on a bagel, thank god for that. With a shaky hand, you pull out the bag and drop a few into your hand.

You're doing this.

Put them back, please!The voice begs you as you close the drawer.

"No! I'm not putting them back," you snap at the voice, "I'm done with chickening out. I'm doing this," You tell yourself as if saying it will make it true. You reach down with a shaky hand and begin to run the water in the tub.

Stop! Don't give up yet, you have your whole life to live!

"No, it's better this way," Fully clothed you step into the warm running water and sit down. Breathing in the steam, you let it fog your mind and the voice grows quieter.

It's going to hurt.

"I-i don't care," You choke, trying not to cry, trying not to careas you bring the cool, slippery, razor to your wrist.

Please stop it Jake! Don't do this!

"Be quiet," You hiss, biting your lower lip as you drag the razor down your arm, gasping as the sharp corner catches your skin.

You don't open your eyes, knowing that it will only hold you back, make you second guess. You bring the razor back up and slice again, gathering your courage to press harder. You do your best to run over the same spot, and oh Father Christmasdoes that hurt. You let out a choked sob, bringing the razor up again and again until you feel the water on your waist. You open your eyes to shut it off and dumbly notice the pink tint in the water. It's the color of a summer sunset. You follow the diffusing trail of color up to your wrist and let out a gasp. That's... That's a lot of blood for only a few slashes. You're not easily fazed by blood, particularly not your own and particularly not after the last three months but oh...

You can still go back. You can stop.

"No, not this time," you sob out, changing hands and slashing viciously at the other wrist, letting out a sob as you feel the metal slice open your skin.

Your tears are running down your cheeks freely as you try to stay quiet. You slash again and again and again until the water is cool and tinted bloody red. Your arms look like meat. You hope it's enough. Slightly dizzy, you lie back in the water, and let your eyes flutter closed.

"Goodbye..." you whisper quietly.

Right as you feel a dark sleep beginning to take you in its grasp, you realize you never wrote a note.

* * *

 

You don't know why you're here. You don't even know this kid. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you just witnessed the aftermath of an attempted suicide right in front of your fucking face. It's probably your fault too. You wasted two hours. He wouldn't still be breathing right now if he did it over two hours ago. Or at least you would think not. If you would have gotten there sooner, you could have stopped him.

He seemed like a normal kid. Sure a little awkward, but you would have never guessed he was depressed. You're such an idiot. A crying Aradia told you the story of how she found him. She stopped him. You couldn't believe it.

Why would he even do something like this? Sure he was lonely and all, but still! Shouldn't that be a motivation to make friends or whatever? It was just his first day; it couldn't have been that bad. You remember your first day was hell, but you didn't go straight home and try to fucking kill yourself.

You let out a frustrated sigh. You haven't even talked to the kid. Why are you getting so worked up over this? Roxy assured you that you could come home and just visit him again after school, but you can't stand to leave his side.

You never did get to introduce yourself. You look over at the black haired kid lying motionless on the hospital bed. The lights are dimmed and the only sound is the occasional beep from one of the many machines he's hooked up to. From what you heard, he needed 21 stitches in each arm. That's almost twice as many that you'd ever needed after any strife. This kid hadn't been fucking around.

You're positioned in a chair on the far side of the room away from the bed and you intend to stay there until visiting hours are over. You only got a good look at him once as you pulled him out of the tub and that was enough to make you almost puke.

The blood. You're not squeamish, but to see that much blood pouring out of a human being the same age as you made you disgusted and scared. It scared you shitless. You screamed for Aradia repeatedly until she found you in the bathroom. His face was white. Not pale, white. His lips, fingers, and toes, were turning blue. He was cold to the touch.

He wasn't breathing. Aradia performed CPR while you stood there frozen. The medics got there and got him to cough up a lot of the water right there on the bathroom floor. They took him to the hospital and you finally found your voice to ask Aradia if you could come with. She agreed and told you about him on the way there.

He sounded like such a great kid. Why would he do something like this? The nervous tapping of your foot creates an eerie echo throughout the room. You hope Aradia gets back with dinner soon. Sure, you didn't do much talking when she was here, but something about the presence of another person makes the silence somewhat easier to bear.

The silent room feels like death and you can't stand it. It's only been a few hours, but you feel like he should have woken up by now. You just want to know he's okay.

You shouldn't have to put up with this. You sigh and run a hand through your spiked blond hair. Noir is going to give you hell.

Finally, after god knows how the long, he stirs awake. Blinking and letting out a quiet curse, he looks around. His eyes are green, quite pretty you think. He notices you and looks at you blankly for a moment.

"Is this the afterlife?" He asks slowly, a light Australian accent glazing his voice.

You shake your head, not really knowing what to say to him. He looks disappointed and maybe a touch angry.

"Oh for the love of..." he falls back against the pillow, attempting to smack his face with his hand, only to stop and notice the lines of black stitching. He lets his hand drop and glares at the ceiling.

"I really thought I had it that time," he murmurs angrily, blinking back tears.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" You ask in a much louder voice than you intended and he looks a bit startled.

"I-I don't," he starts and then stops, deciding to glare at you, "Well excuse me but it is my life and I can do with it what I please. What is it to you, because frankly it's none of your business."

"Actually, it is, because I'm the one who found you bleeding out in that damn bathtub." You shoot back. He looks startled again, his eyebrows raised, he opens his mouth to argue but you cut him off.

"No. Don't even argue with me. You owe me an explanation because I'm the one who had to drag you out of that bloody water. What the fuck do were you thinking?" Your teeth are gritted. His expression flits between anger and sadness until finally he sighs and relaxes back into the pillow again.

"I just... I don't want to live anymore," he murmurs miserably, running his fingers over the black threading holding his forearms together like a patchwork quilt.

"Why not?! You're not even sixteen! You have your whole fucking life ahead of you why would you..." You cut off and smack your head, grabbing the bridge of your nose and taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I guess..." The boy murmurs, watching you massage your temples, "I didn't mean anyone any trouble. I just thought that-"

"You would slit your wrists and bleed out in a bathtub," you deadpan.

He looks slightly stunned, not that you blame him after 42 stitches and a lungful of water.

"I... Suppose yes, that's what I had intended," He replies quietly.

"Well, that's fucking stupid," you snap at him.

Jesus, why are you mad? The kid just tried to kill himself you're yelling at him. But you can't shake this feeling that you know him. You can't pin it, but something about him-  
"Your thoughts are interrupted by Aradia busting into the room. She's talking on her cell as hands you a McDonald's bag. It takes her the point of your finger to turn and see Jake sitting awake and staring wide eyed at her.

She ends her conversation on the phone with a blunt, "I'll call you back," and runs to wrap her arms around him. He winces in pain as she squeezes him, but soon relaxes in her grip a bit.

For a moment the room is silent as he slowly brings his arms up to wrap around her as well. They hold each other like that for a brief moment, Jake clinging to her. You shift awkwardly.

Aradia pulls back and brushes some hair of his forehead and murmurs, "Do I have to take water away from you or something?"

He smiles halfheartedly and you can't help yourself from throwing in your snide remark, even if it is under your breath, "Fuck no, start with the razors."

Jake smiles sadly, "I'm alright..." he replies apologetically.

Aradia's warm stare turns stern as she glares at Jake, "Boy, you have 42 stitches in you, a huge amount of blood loss age, and would in general be dead if this one here hadn't found you when he did. Don't you dare even try to tell me you're fine."

Jake turns his head towards you and looks at you for a moment, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I actually know you," He pauses, looking confused and a bit curious. "You seem to know who I am though."

You sigh, "Drik Strider. I'm in your English class."

His face takes on a silent look of realization as he process the little amount of information you gave him.

"Oh, you're the one the teacher kept yelling at."

"Probably," You say with a shrug.

"But I'm still quite confused on how you came about finding me, umm..." He trails off and you figure neither of you want to finish that statement. Aradia, by this point in time, has taken to listening to the conversation with an expression of interest. She continues to hold Jakes hand as you speak.

"Can't I introduce myself to a fellow student?" You answer simply.

He looks skeptical of your answer, but doesn't interiorgate further.

Instead he slumps against the pillows and lets out a sigh, "Well, pleasure meeting you mister Strider."

You sigh, "In any other situation I would return the sentiment, but yeah. You too."

The room falls into silence again as you take out the forgotten hamburgers and start eating one. Aradia messes with Jakes hair until his eyelids droop and flutter shut. Soon after his breathing slows and he seems to relax, Aradia comes and sit back down by you. You watch her pick at her cold food like she wants to say something, but doesn't know how to say it. So, you just wait until she finally opens her mouth to speak.

"I never properly thanked you." she says quietly.

"Thank me for what?" you ask with a mouth full of food, confused.

"For saving him. If you hadn't come when you did and found him he might be dead now..." She trails off and you see a stray tear escape her eye, but she brings her hand up to wipe it away quickly, "I don't know if I can do this," She confesses.

"Do what?" You ask.

"This," She makes a motion with her hand at Jake, "Parenting." She pauses and looks at you with a nervous smile, "I've never raised a thing in my life and now ….isn't the time for me to be making stupid mistakes," You can't help but feel a bit sympathetic, thinking about your brother. He was barely eighteen when your parents died. She looks back over at Jake, "Why can't I help him? It seems everything I try just makes matters worse."

The room goes silent again when you have nothing to say. You sure as hell don't know how to raise a kid.

You bite your lip and swallow the food in your mouth, daring to reach out and take her hand, "From how you reacted to me flipping the fu- flipping out and finding him in the tub, I think you'll do okay. He just needs time..." like you knew anything. You give her hand a light squeeze and she smiles, pulling you into a tight hug and quickly releasing you again.

"Thanks Dirk. It means a lot." she smiles, and you feel a little bit better, knowing that at least you can help her. Your eyes drift back to the sleeping boy as she stands up.

"Well, we should probably let him rest. You want a ride home?" She asks, grabbing her things.

"Please." you reply, standing and following her. She places a soft kiss on his forehead and opens the door, motioning you out.

It's late when you walk in the door. You close it slowly behind you to not wake anyone. Slowly you make your way crossed the living room, up the stairs, and to your bedroom. You plop down on your bed and kick off your shoes. Instantly you feel your body relax and sleep threaten. You don't put up a fight, you close your eyes and start slipping away from consciousness when hear a soft tap at your door followed by a "Dirky?"

Jesus fuck, how the hell did she hear you? Regardless, you mumble a "Come in," and sit up.

Slowly your door opens and Roxy steps inside, "Hey," She smiles as she shuts the door quietly.

"Sup," You watch as she walks over and climbs in bed with you, "Isn't it a bit late for getting all snuggled up in my room. If you want to do that, go down the hall a bit and pester Jane."

She giggles, "Nope, you get to put up with me tonight Strider."

"Whatever," You sigh as you lay back next to her.

"Can I come with you?" She whispers from beside you.

"No."

"Why?" She whines.

"We don't need to give the kid a heart attack."

"But, I just want to meet him!" She protests, "If you're going to spend all your time there, I think its fair I get to meet him at least."  
"No."

"Just a little b-"

"No," State firmly. You're not giving in.

You don't know why, maybe you just don't want to have to explain your connection to him or something. You just don't think Roxy would understand and she would give you shit about being soft or something. Either way, she's not meeting him until he goes back to school.

She gives your arm a soft punch and pouts, "Then at least come back at a decent hour."

"You're not my mother."

"Argg, you're impossible," She mumbles as she rolls over and presses her forehead against your shoulder.

"Hmm," You sigh as you let your eyes close again. Roxy probably tried asking you more about Jake, but you blocked out her quiet murmurs and let yourself fall into a deep sleep.


	3. ==> Jake dream

 

* * *

She's there.

You're grandmother. Standing not ten yards ahead of you, smiling warmly with open arms, in front of the coffin you built for her at fourteen. The air of the frog temple smells sweet and clean.

Your heart swells as you see her comforting, time worn features. You hear yourself laugh as you take off sprinting towards those familiar, lively green eyes.

Five yards  
Two yards  
One yard

you launch yourself into her arms and feel them wrap around you as you bury your nose in her familiar smell. But something seems wrong.

The temple is dark. The vines look shriveled and dead. Her arms are boney and feel cold through your shirt. They seem to draw the warmth from you as she draws you closer to her. She smells wrong too.

It's not the scent of fresh greenery and wet rain.

It's the smell of rotting flesh.

The smell creeps into your nostrils, making your eyes water and your throat burn as you try to push away. You cough and choke as you writhe and struggle in her grasp, trying to cry out to her and tell her to let you go, but your voice has deserted you. You can only gasp and choke as the smell overwhelms you. A voice dry as winter leaves but as shrill as filed nails on a chalk board finds its way into your ears.

"I've missed you Jake," the corpse pulls you tighter to itself, and you can feel its ribs.

Poking into your chest, threatening to break your skin and impale you. The smell is making it impossible to breath without choking and you gasp for air as it squeezes you.

"I've missed you so much," It's sweet voice whispers in your ear.

You can't believe it's possible to be pulled in any tighter, but the frail arms trapping you manage. Tears are running down your cheeks as your nose is buried in the sick stench.

"I'm here now though," it whines in a bittersweet voice.

You let out a small cry as you feel cracked ribs breaking your skin and pushing inside you.

"You'll never be alone again. Together forever, my brave adventurer."

you finally find your voice and let out a scream as you feel the sharp bones push through your ribs, puncture your lungs, and-

"JAKE!"

You shoot strait up in your clean white bed, feeling dizzy and sick. You gasp at the clean air, sharp with the scent of antiseptic. Thank the lord it isn't the smell of the dead. You choke and shiver for a moment, before finally looking up. Your eyes settle on a boy with pointy sunglasses and spiky blond hair. He looks stricken.

You remember his name is Dirk.

"Fuck, are you okay?" He asks in a concerned tone. His hand is clasping at your arm, white knuckled and you register a dull pain there. You look down and blink at the stitches. Then it hits you. You're still in the hospital.

It was a dream.

You nod.

Shakily, finally catching your breath.

"I'm fine. It was just a bad dream is all," you say, trying to sound reassuring and failing completely. Your voice is cracked, dry and scared. Dirk let's out a small sigh of relief.

"That was one hell of a nightmare English," He replies. It seems to occur to him then that he's still gripping your arm, and releases it with a small "sorry", his hands diving back into his pockets. You relax a bit, leaning back against the pillow, hoping the nausea will pass.

"Indeed. Scared the dickens out of me..." You murmur, more to yourself as your heart rate stars to slow down. A few moments of silence pass and a thought crosses your mind. You eye him curiously.

"How did you know I was having a nightmare?"

He rolls his eyes at you, "Do you usually thrash and scream when you're having normal dreams?"

Your face contorts in confusion. Grandma never told you that you did that. You didn't even talk in your sleep, let alone thrash about.

"Well... No, of course not. I just wasn't aware I did that. I'm usually a very sound sleeper." You state, confusion evident in your voice.

"That must have been one hell of a nightmare then. Scared the crap outta me," He cards a hand through his perfect hair.

The memory is beginning to fade now, like way morning dew evaporates from the lawn in sunlight.

"Yes, I suppose it was," Your sentence trails off with the memories.

Dirk chews his lip in thought for a moment as silence falls over the two of you. You feel the damp paper of the hospital gown clinging to your skin, and bury yourself in the blankets.

"What was it about?" He finally asks, trying to sound aloof. To your curiosity, there is an undertone of sincere concern to his question. You wonder why he cares so much.

"My grandmother..." you offer. He drags the chair over from the other side of the room, and sits down.

"What happened?" he questions carefully.

"Well, I don't really remember much," you say with a dry chuckle. "Just the smell of rotting flesh and... Well... Something excruciatingly painful. But only the sensation..." You feel your heart start to race again, remembering the fear you felt when you jolted awake. You do your best to banish the remnants of the dream from your mind, running your fingers over the row of black thread stitched in your arm.

He nods understandingly. "I used to get those a lot. When you just wake up and remember something painful but nothing else." you both sit in silence again, with him looking like he wants to ask more. Eventually he opens his mouth.

"Did she like, stab you or something?"

"Oh heavens to betsy no. She wouldn't do that, not even in my dreams. She was much to kind of a woman to even leave a print like that on my subconscious..." you trail off into silence again.

"Was?" he says, slightly curious.

You sigh.

"She died a few years ago," you murmur quietly.

"Oh..." he says, shifting uncomfortably."It must have been hard."

You chuckle dryly again, shaking your head and squeezing the blankets. She's been dead for such a long time now. Why does it still bring you to tears EVERYTIME you think of it.

"Yes, her passing was rather difficult. Especially since it was just us two on the island. I had to bury her myself..." you trail off and reach up under your glasses, scrubbing at the tears that are beginning to form there.

Dirk chews on his lip more. That must be quite a nasty habit of his. He seems to do it a lot.

"Wow... That's rough... I'm sorry." he murmurs quietly, watching you scrub at your face.

"Yes, it was." You continue to scrub at your face, grabbing the bridge of your nose. "Oh Jesus Christ on a whole wheat bagel, don't do this now English..." you murmur under your breath. Dirk continues to watch you and stops chewing, a look of shock crossing his face. He blinks rapidly at you and stiffens.

"I... I had better get going." he says quickly, standing and almost tripping over the chair as he turns to leave.

"Oh. Alright. Good bye then." confused, you try to smile, as he leaves.

As soon as he's gone you inevitably burst into tears.

* * *

 

Jake English.

_Jake fucking English_

You can't believe it took you this long to put two and two together. The physical appearances fit together like gears. He even had that stupid eccentric way of talking that you thought was so cute.

And  _still_  it took you this long.

The grandmother and the island thing were so damn blunt it finally hit you like a swift kick. This was your Jake. The Jake who you had been wondering about for the last three months since he cut off communication with you and your friends. The Jake whose only family member was now dead. The Jake you had been crushing on since Roxy first introduced you.

Your Jake.

The same one Aradia had stopped from jumping.

The same one you drug out of a bath tub and watched as they put forty two stitches in his arms.

_God damnit_

You can't get home fast enough. It's cold and wet but you refuse to wait for the bus back to the house. You run the whole way, your fingers numbing and feet freezing as they are drenched in splattered sleet.

You take the stairs two at a time and slam your key into the lock, flinging the door open and kicking it closed behind you. You don't even bother to kick off your chores before flopping face down on the bed.

And you screwed around for two hours. He could've been safe. He wouldn't have needed to be sewn back together like a patchwork quilt. You felt guilty before but now... Now it was like you set the flame that burned down the orphanage. He was so alone.

When he stopped pestering you, you figured that he was angry about something. Maybe you poking and prodding at him for acting strangely.

But then it was a week.

And a week turned into a month.

And a month turned into three.

By that time you tried to convince yourself that something happened with his wireless connection. That would explain it. You told yourself it would be back up soon. But now you knew the truth.

The whole fucking time, he had been trying to off himself. You punch the pillow hard and curse.

And you could've stopped him.

On top of it all, you don't even think he's connected the dots. Seriously though, how many people in the world can be named Dirk Strider? He was incredibly oblivious to most things. You learned this the hard way when dropping hints about your feelings for him failed miserably.

No way in hell were you gonna tell him.  
You didn't want to scare him away. Your pretty sure he wouldn't return them either.

On the bright side, he is cute.

Cuter than you expected.

Brilliant Green eyes, black hair, dorky grin, a farmer's tan.

He would look even better without all those damn stitches in his arms.

"God damnit! Idiot!" you hiss loudly grabbing the pillow and throwing it across the room, almost smacking Roxy in the face, but she jumps out of the way just in time, "Shit. When the hell did you get here?" you ask in an almost accusing manner.

"Like, I dunno, five or ten seconds ago." she looks surprisingly sober, which explains her stealth.

That or you were just too wrapped up in your thoughts to hear her stumble in.

"What's wrong Dirky?" She asks, concerned, as she picks up the pillow you threw across the room. "I did knock, you know."

You sigh and lean against the wall, grabbing the bridge of your nose and stretching out your legs.

"It's not you Rolal," you say as you feel her weight join you on the bed.

"Somethin happen with Jakey?" she inquires, cocking her head to the side.

"Kind of..." you say, not really wanting to dive right into the subject.

"Do ya wanna talk about it?" she asks carefully?

"no." you deadpan.

"Twenty questions then?" she asks leaning on your shoulder comfortingly.

You know that twenty questions is just her way of figuring out the problem when people won't strait up tell her.

"Whatever. Just shoot." you drop your hand and lean your head back against the wall.

"Hmmmm. Does it have to do with Jakey?"

"Yeah, we already established that." you remind her.

"Right, sorry. M kinda drunk..." she snorts and thinks again. This damn girl. Sober or not, she acts drunk, and even then she seems sober sometimes. She gets great grades even though she spends all her time parting and drinking. It was abnormal.

"Did he do somethin?"

You sigh, "sort of."

"... Was it medical?"

"No"

"Was it between you two?"

Damn this girl and her powers of observation.

"Yeah."

She grins. "Was it shocking and exciting?"

"If your asking if we fucked, the no." you answer bluntly.

"Jeeze Dirky, I just was wondering if you kissed him. But okay, that works too I guess." she taps her fingers on the comforter, pondering what to ask next, "Did he give you more of his motives?"

"I guess you could say that," You sigh.

"Did you find out more about him?" She smiles narrowing down her questions.

"Yeah." You play into her hand.

"Did you magically figure out you had a connection with him?" She giggles slightly.

"Actually, as stupid as that sounds your pretty damn close."

"See! Even drunk, m not stupid Dirk. Now will ya just tell me?" she clings to you and gives you a pouty face. You sigh in defeat.

"You remember that boy you introduced me to, but then he cut off communication for like, three fucking months and none of us have heard anything from him?"

"Jakey?"

"Yeah."

"Course I do. I mean, I didn't talk to him much but yeah, I remember him." she snorts giggles. "Mr. Shivery."

"Chivalry, Rox."

"Yeah, that." she giggles. "Why?"

"It's the same Jake."

Roxy leans off your shoulder, looking stunned. "What?"

"Same kid. Same dorky, happy Jake. In the hospital. For trying to off himself." That statement came out sounding angrier than you meant.

Roxy seems to caught up in shock to notice though. "You're kidding."

"Rox, I am not fucking kidding you." You assure her bluntly.

"How'd you figure that?"

"More like how did I not figure that." you chuckle dryly. "I'm so fucking blind. Everything matches. He lived alone with his grandmother. She died a year ago. Last of his family. And then this happened."

She sits up. "Holy shit..."

"Yeah. I don't think he connected the dots on me yet. Not even with my stupid ass shades." Roxy doesn't even smile at your lameass joke.

"Fuck, is he doing okay?"

"He had some scary ass nightmare about s grandmother and told me a bit about it and then it hit me. I'm so fucking stupid rox. I could've helped him." you slam your head against the wall, but she grabs your ear.

"He cut off with us. We did our best. It's not our fault. Especially not yours. You saved him you dumbass fat oaf." All drunkenness gone from her voice she glares at you.

"Don't you dare blame yourself. Or I'mma get Janey to kick your ass."

You snorted and hung your head. "Whatever Roxy," You mumble, flopping down on the bed again.

"Don't you whatever Roxy me Mr. beef Dirky. It's not your fault. And besides, you're taking good care of him. So shut up." She flops down next to you and cuddles up to you as you groan.

"Roxy, go cuddle with Janey."

"Shut up asswad, I'm sleeping with you tonight." she snuggles closer to you, draping an arms across your shoulders. Despite yourself you snuggle up to her, glad for the comfort and warmth of your best friend.

Despite Roxy's words you feel the guilt living in your bones and your head screaming at you to try and make amends for your faults.

And you will.


	4. ==> Enter Jane Crocker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lazier I get, the shorter these get. Sorry...

For the next few days Dirk visits you daily. You take a liking to the time you spend together. It would be the only time of day you would be able to talk to somebody. Aradia would come every once in a while during the day, but she did have work to attend to, which you completely understand. Aradia gets quite busy, being as involved with the school as she is. From both you hear a lot about the school you only attended for one day. Dirk convinces you that things won't be as bad when you go back. He promises to introduce you to a few people and show you around.

You start to think going back won't be that bad.

You have mapped out a time frame in which you will be visited by either Dirk or Aradia. Today Aradia was busy and had to skip her break leaving you alone longer than usual. By the time three o' clock rolled around you were anticipating Dirk arrival, except he didn't come. Instead a small girl walked in the door, a plate of baked goods balanced precariously on her right hand, a book in the left. She smiled as she entered the room, standing next to your bed.

"I know you were probably expecting Dirk," she stars off in a quieter voice, gentle and smooth in tone, "But he had to serve detention unexpectedly today," She giggled, "He's been looking after you so much, he's gained quite a few tardies. I'm Jane," She sets down the plate of cookies and various other treats down on the bedside table, pulling the chair Dirk usually occupies over. You smile at her.

"I see," you shake your head and chuckle, "I told him not to trouble himself," You extend your hand to her, and she takes it lightly, shaking it.

"Jake English. Pleased to meet you."

She smiles widely, "Jane Crocker. Pleasure is all mine," She giggles, "Would you like a treat?" She gestures toward the plate sitting down, "I made them just this morning."

"Fresh baked goods? I don't mind if I do," You grab a cookie off the plate and take a bite. It's delicious.

"Jane, these are fantastic!" you exclaim, shoving the rest of the cookie into your mouth, taking another.

She smiles widely and sits a little straighter in the chair, "Thank you! Homemade cookies are my specialties," She smiles as you take another.

You look over at Jane as you eat. She too has taken a cookie and sat back in the chair. She has taken her jacket off to reveal a shirt the same light blue as her eyes. She's quite pretty you note. You wonder if she happens to be Dirks girlfriend. You can imagine he would be one to pick up the pretty girls.

Curiosity takes the better of you, "So you and Dirk are friends I'm assuming?"

She nods and finishes her cookie, "We have been friends for years. I actually go to the same school as you two," She smiles, "I'm pretty sure you and I have science together."

"Ah," You nod, "It will only be a few days before I go back. It's great to know one more person!"

She looks at you thoughtfully for a moment, "You should visit us sometime before you go back. We could introduce you to our other house mate."

"House mate?" You ask slightly confused.

She laughs lightly, "Dirk must not have told you. Dirk, Roxy, and I live together out of town a little ways. He must not have mentioned her yet. Her name is Roxy Lalonde," She giggles and nibbles at a scone, "She's quite a... Free spirit."

"Really? She sounds like an interesting character," You laugh, "I would love to meet her."

"She quite eager to meet you as well, though you should look for her on her better days."

"Better days?" you question curiously.

She smiles a bit sadly, "She has quite the taste for alcohol."

"oh, I see..." you reply, nodding slightly in understanding. Noticing the change in Jane's demeanor, you take I take it yourself to change the subject, "So, you seem like a fine young lady. Care to tell me about yourself?"

She shrugs her shoulders, "Well, there's not much special about me. Just your average small town girl flying off to New York on scholarship."

"Well you sure can bake a mean pastry," you point out and she giggles.

"It runs in the family," she laughs, but after a moment her laughter dies as she adds, "Unfortunately I'm not even that amazing at it."

You're taken aback by her statement. "Your cookies seemed pretty amazing to me!"

"Thank you," She smiles, "I just wish I could be better at it some times."

You nod. "It's a wonderful thing to have goals!" You assure her, "but you shouldn't critique yourself too much."

She laughs slightly again, "Oh, I know. I just want to be as amazing as my grandmother someday. Who knows maybe even be known for something more than just my cooking?" she smiles unsurely and looks down at her hands.

"Well," you offer, "Your laugh is quite amazing as well."

She looks up surprised at you. The soft rose coloring that dusts her cheeks makes her nervous smile that much more adorable as she swipes a stay lock of hair off her face and her bright blue eyes peer at you through her glasses. "Um, thank you," she says and giggles.

You honestly don't know why that thought slipped out your mouth, but you can feel heat rising to your own cheeks as she giggles. Not quite sure why, you are now even more curious whether she is Dirk's girlfriend or not. This is the first time you have ever really interacted with a female your age and it so happens to be a girl whose smile seems to light up the room and who's laugh makes you want to be able to have a real smile again.

It's all a little too much for you to bear, it makes your heart speed up a bit and your teeth chew at your bottom lip. You can't stop thinking about how she's such a beautiful young lady. Her eyes meet yours and she opens her mouth to say something, but instead she just let's out a slightly frustrated sigh. She breaks your gaze for a second to seek out your hand and wrap her own small hand around it before retuning your gaze with a smile.

Her hands are soft, like her smile. You both sit in a comfortable silence as you give her delicate hand a slight squeeze. God, you could have sworn you have known this girl for years.

Her eyes leave yours and travel over your body. You can see the pain in her eyes when her eyes rove over a row of stitches or scars. That's when you realize she hasn't asked yet. More than likely Dirk has already informed her, but she hasn't bothered asking for herself. This you are slightly grateful for. She has made you forget more she has made you remember. It's nice to just talk without having to explain yourself.

Even after she has examined both your arms she doesn't ask, she just stands up and says she should leave. But she doesn't let go of your hand yet. Instead she looks at in for a moment before giving it another squeeze, then finally lets go.

Her blue eyes look back up to your green ones and she smiles as she opens her mouth to finally speak. "Hope to see you soon Jake."

"Same to you Ms. Jane Crocker," you say with a nod as she picks up her belongings and heads out the door, giving you one last smile before she leaves.

* * *

 

At first, you think it's in your mind when you hear someone standing behind you. You would've heard them come in. But a glance over your shoulder confirms your suspicion as reality. Dirk is standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised behind his glasses, staring at you and the damage you've done to the poor kitchen.

"Jane," he starts with caution. "What's wrong?"

He slowly steps into the kitchen and looks around the pastry filled surfaces. You stop stirring and balance your current bowl of batter on your hip. "Nothing is wrong Dirk; can't I just bake when I feel like it?"

"It looks like you baked enough pasties to feed an army for ten years. Like an army of one hundred thousand lumberjacks for ten years. Seriously Jane, nobody's gonna be able to eat all of this. We can't even sit at the god damn table without getting an ass full of donut. We all know baking to feed an army is your coping mechanism when you're stressed. Something's up."

"No its not! And stop over exaggerating," you insist, "You could use some sweets to add meat to your bones," you shake a batter ridden spoon at him, flicking a few stray drops on to the already flour covered floor.

"You sound like the mother I never had," he grumbles, "But I'm not exaggerating Jane." For a moment he stands, leaning against the door frame and watching you stir your cookie batter. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"You know you can um, talk to me if something's wrong, right?" He says awkwardly.

"Yes, I know, but you're worrying your pretty little head over nothing." you continue to insist, stirring the sugar cookie batter and humming. A few more second of awkward silence pass.

"What happened with Jake today?" Your stirring falters for only a quick moment, surprised by the question, before it returns to normal.

"Nothing really," You reply happily. "I brought him some cookies."

"And?" he prompts.

"And we talked." you state the obvious.

He lets out a sigh. "And?" he asks a bit more firmly.

"And he was nice?" you shrug your shoulders. "What exactly are you trying to get from me Dirk?"

"Why you're stressing out about it," he says.

"I'm not stressed! I'm just baking because I lik- Whoops!" you throw your hands up in the air and accidentally sending your spoon flying at Dirk. He snaps his hand up and catches it right before it smacks his face.

"Sorry," you say meekly. He quirks and raises an eyebrow at you and you hide behind a stray cookbook.

"Now will you tell me what's wrong?" He says deadpan.

Putting your cook book down you sigh and lean against the counter, "I don't really know. He just reminds me of somebody and talking to him brought up some... things I haven't thought about in a while." you bring your fingers up to your temples to massage the small headache starting to form. "It's confusing okay?"

"Who?"

"What?"

"Who does he remind you of?" Dirk pushes.

"Oh, just... I don't know, exactly...," you trail off, not really wanting to bring it up. Roxy was never very good at keeping her mouth shut about your personal matters.

"A boy you met online?" His prompt makes you look at him in surprise. "A boy who was introduced to you by Roxy last summer? Who also happens to go by the name Jake?"

You feel your lips form a wide smile, "So I was right?"

"Well, if you knew that before I took the time to spell it out for you, then yeah."

"Wait," Something snags the happy thought, turning your expression nervous. "Does he know?" despite yourself, you almost hope he doesn't. You must have looked like an idiot talking to him like you have never met.

"Don't worry," he assures you, "I don't think he does."

"Really?"

Dirk snorts.

"Jane, how many people in the world have the name Dirk Strider, wears pointy anime shades, and is swag as fuck? If he didn't recognize me then I highly doubt he connected the dots on you."

"The poor boy must really be out of it." You say sympathetically.

You remember talking to Jake daily and always looking forward to getting home on going online. Roxy would always tease you when you would talk about him. You would always deny your little crush and told yourself more than anybody else that you didn't have feelings for him, but when he stopped responding to your messages you freaked out. It took Roxy a month to calm you down enough to think rationally. He didn't hate you; something else prevented him from getting back to you all. You still don't know what that reason was, but you could probably make an educated guess.

"Yeah," dirk sighed heavily, grabbing a cookie off a cooling rack to nibble. "He must have a lot on his mind. I think its better we let him figure it out on his own. Okay?"

You nod, "Okay," you pause moment thinking about the thought that just entered your head, "Dirk?"

"Hm?" he hums, mouth full of cookie.

"Would it be okay with you if he, umm, maybe moved in with us? I mean after he adjusts and every thing, I just thought it might be nice to have him around..." You trail off watching Dirk for a reaction.

Dirk chewed thoughtfully for a moment before answering.

"Roxy and I talked a bit about it actually, and we were thinking it would work well, you know, considering we live so close to campus and it might be good for him to have friends and things..."

"Well, we'd need to check it out with Aradia first, considering she's practically his adoptive parent now. Aside from that, I think it could work."

You hate to admit that your heart beat quicken slightly at the thought of him coming here. With him so close you might work up the courage to tell him how you feel. Roxy would probably help you if you asked her to do so. Oh wow, this is going to be great. You don't even try to stop the smile from consuming you.

"Now, will you do us all a favor and stop baking so we don't all drown in sugar and butter?"

You look around at the mess you have created and nod happily.

"After this batch." The look he gives you is exasperated and you giggle. "Don't worry, I promise."


	5. ==> Kids help Jake survive high school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are back! Sorry for the wait and thank you to all of you who have stuck with us, but summer is here and there are more chapters coming up!

Jake walks behind you looking completely terrified. You don't blame him, he hasn't had the best experience here, but hopefully with the help of Jane and Roxy you can help him adjust quickly. All four of you examined his schedule yesterday when he came over. Unfortunately he starts off the day alone, but then Jane is in his second hour, Roxy in his third, all four of you have the same lunch, then his fifth hour he's alone again, and you and him share the last hour of the day.

It's not the worst schedule, but that still leaves major gaps when you won't be able to keep an eye on him. The first day you decide to walk him to his first class. He doesn't say a word as you reach his class room. The two of you stand there silently as everyone else walks by not even taking notice to you. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor and you suppress the urge to let him go back home. You had to practically drag him here, your ability to resist him is dwindling. You run a hand through your hair and sigh heavily.

"Alright, I have to go. You have Jane in your class next hour so just hang in there for now," you watch as he looks up at you, a subconscious leading in his eyes. You are literally about an inch from breaking. You reach down into your pocket and hand him a copy of your schedule. "If it gets unamiable, come find me. Or Janey. And if you get desperate, there's always Roxy." He smiles sadly and it just twists the knife in your chest.

"Thanks mate," Jake says, his nervousness audible in his weak voice. He tries to smile then and you just about break. You take a deep breath and lean down next to him, looking him in the eye.

"Look, Jake, these kids are preppy assholes. They don't care about anything that's not a test or a sweater. They aren't judging you, and they never will, because they don't give a damn. Remember that," You say rather desperately. Jake looked into his eyes, green matching orange in the intensity of the stare. The raven nodded slowly.

"Alright. Thanks Dirk." He said, a bit of confidence uncurling his hunched shoulders. Dirk breathed a small sigh of relief. He was not going to let anything happen to Jake this time. The warning bell rang and dirk jolted to his feet. You chew your lip, stuck between leaving now and making it to class or changing another detention.

"Go," Jake said softly, his lips curved up into a nervous smile. "You'll be late. I can manage myself strider. I lived alone for two years you know." He joked weakly.

Oh, right. Look how that went. You know you should go, but you are so fucking nervous for this kid.

"Go Strider!" Jake said, pushing you down the hallway. "I have my own adventures to get on with." You open your mouth to speak and closed it again with a terse nod. You pivot towards your class and stop, turning back and pulling Jake in for a quick, tight hug and releasing him quickly, sprinting to class.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

You stand there with the slow blinking of your eyes your only movement. If you're not mistaken, you believe Dirk just hugged you. You can still feel the ghost warmth of his muscled arms wrapped around you. In that split second that your bodies had been touching, you observed everything down to the way the threads of his shirt felt against your exposed skin.

It's funny, it's not like you've never been hugged, but there was something... Different about that one. There just was.

The final bell rung and your legs shuffle inside the classroom. Once inside you're faced with the confusion of where to sit. Other students file in around you talking and giggling as they take their seats. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you hurry to the back and find an empty seat. A few people glance back at you and you fight the urge to slip down into your seat and hide from their eyes.

You take your notebook and pen just for something to do. Though the bell has just finished ringing you keep your eyes trained on the clock as the teacher starts the lesson. You can't seem to focus on what the teacher is say, so instead your thought drift to your new friends. Dirk and Jane are both very kind souls, though dirk can be a bit awkward at time.

As for the third one, Roxy, you've seen very little of her. You had a brief meeting with her the prior day, but she was bustling about and you didn't get much more than her name. She seems like a lively character though, much different from Dirk and Jane who seem to be level headed. That's why you assumed Dirk and Jane were in a relationship at first. They complement each other's character quite nicely, but you soon learned their kind gestures were nothing romantic. Same goes for Roxy as well, it's relaxing knowing you're not going to stumble upon any romantic landmines any time soon.

You want to say your thoughts made the time fly by, but when you refocused you had dazed away only half the class. You really should at least try to pay attention. You missed the first few months of school, so you're horribly behind, but having to focus on one thing for long periods of time is something you haven't done much before. Of course you could spend a whole day watching movies, but watching a teacher enthusiastically explain wars that happened hundreds of years before you were born, doesn't catch your attention as much as the newest release to the cinema.

After listening to the teacher go on and on you decide that these events are pretty captivating, but again you would rather be there caught up in the action, heart beating, brain reeling, trying to figure out an escape route to save you team, friends, and most of all your country. You've seen movies about war and that's where you learned what you do know. You've learned a lot from your movies. You never did go to school, but you loved to learn. So you picked up information when and where ever you could.

Defeated by boredom you allow your brain to process the teachers' words. Soon you find yourself back into daydreams, but rip inning with your teachers' tales. It's your own movie playing inside your head. Instead of well-known generals, you are standing there living in the action, people yearning to hear your story. Oh yes, that would be the life. Adventure at every corner ready to be talked by a strong, brave, gentleman. And just like in the movies, you would win the love of a fair lady while doing so.

The shriek of the bell interrupts your thrilling thoughts and your smile slowly fades as you are brought back to your classroom and the students around you start to leave. Quickly you gather your notebook and your thoughts and stumble out of the room with the rest of the students. You have moment of hesitation with colors rushing by you as you step out of the safety of the room. Your heart pounds in your ears and you barely remember to just simply breathe.

Walk. Two rooms down. Think. Walk. Okay. Your legs move and you keep your eyes glued on your targeted classroom. Someone bumps into you and you practically jumps onto another. The few evil glares sent in your direction send you scurrying into the nearest classroom, being bumped and shipped as you do so. You stumble into the nearest room which you hope is your classroom and fall to your knees trying to catch your heart from beating out of your chest. So many people. Slowly you look up at the blue eyed beauty standing above you. She smiles as she helps you up.

"Rough start?"

"You could say that." You force a laugh to match her smile.

Jane leads you over to the seat next to hers and starts trying to catch you up with the class. You watch her intently trying to comprehend what she is saying as she leans over your notebook jotting down a few key notes. Her bright eyes dart from her notebook to yours and her hands write swiftly only to be interrupted to push her glasses back up her perfect button nose when they slide down. The bell rings and she looks up at you asking if you get it. You nod and try to recall what she said.

Science poses the same problem as history, you just can't seem to focus. But luck fully when you turn to Jane she smiles and explains to you everything you missed. You can't say it was your favorite, but the class seemed to pass much more quickly than you would have liked. You sigh and get ready to face the massive crowd again as the bell rings. As you're about to walk out the door you're caught by surprise as Jane hooks her arm with yours.

"Need help finding your next class?"

You nod. "That will be helpful if you don't mind."

She laughs, "Of course I don't mind Jake! I'm here whenever you need help."

You find yourself genuinely smiling back at her. Those words were the words you needed to hear. They make you able to believe in Jane. A friend. Is that who you have your arm locked with? You come to a split in the hallway and Jane stops and points a finger down the hall.

"The second room on the left."

You turn and find where her finger is pointing.

"I have to go that way," she gestures in the opposite direction and links her arm, "Roxy should be there and I'll see you at lunch, okay?

You nod. "Okay."

This time you expect it as she wraps an arm around your shoulders, but you don't do much besides stand there awkwardly. She pulls away, says goodbye, you say bye and watch her disappear into the crowd.

* * *

The bell rings and Jakey has yet to find his way to class. As the natural good friend you are, you are instantly concerned. Everyone knows the first day is always rough and this school is easy to get lost in. The teacher is about to open her big old mouth when your hand shoots up.

"Yes?" She sounds annoyed by the interruption. Oops.

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

"Roxy, you couldn't have gone before class?"

"Sorry, but I really have to go!" You plead.

"Fine," she sighs, "just make it quick.

You creep out into the hallway and ponder what way to go first. Omg, you're like a detective looking for an escaped convict. Convict English is on the run and up to agent Lalond to save the day. First the detective must get inside the head of her target.

She recalls all information she can about the convict. The detective turns right and sneaks through the hallways looking for the most desolate area, even in the passing time. This is where she suspects she will find the English boy. Our smart and sexy detective turns her final corner and runs right into a bewildered Jake English.

"Caught red handed Mr. English. What do you have to say for yourself?"

His wide green eyes dart around looking for an answer to your ridiculous question. After a few failed attempts of failed words he stutters out a, "what?"

Laughing you put an arm around his shoulders and lead him back down the hallway. He noticeably flinches at the touch. Awe, did you scare the poor boy? Shame on you. "Nothing Jakey. Try to relax a bit Kay? Don't worry the teacher won't be mad at all. We all know you weren't tryn' to ditch, or were you?" you raise an eyebrow at him. "I shouldn't judge before I know. You wouldn't happen to be the hard core type Jakey, hmm?"

"Umm," he looks more startled than before. Man, Roxy you should just shut your mouth. "I wasn't intentionally trying to be late to class. Jane even helped me find the class, but there were just so many people..." He trails off and looks down.

This time you take a moment to think before you open your mouth. "Really Jake, its fine. I was just joking; I know it's hard."

His eyes stop examining the floor to meet yours. The panicked green eyes search yours for an ally and you give him a half smile that speaks better than you could. Jake sighs and the tension drains away from his shoulders. His eyes leave yours, but look straight ahead instead of dropping to the floor. See that's all you had to do, just think three seconds before you open your blabbering mouth and he seems to trust you. Maybe you should think more often... Nah, what fun is that?

Once you get Jake back to the classroom he seems to have relaxed a bit. The teacher doesn't seem to notice, or just doesn't care, when you and Jake slip in. You plop him in the empty desk behind you and turn to try to figure out what you missed. After ten minutes you're practically falling asleep. This teacher really sucks ass.

You feel sorry for Jake, he's probably so lost and can't even pay attention to her ramblings. He never came off as the focused type. You sneak a peek over your shoulder and see him hunched over his notebook. So he's a doodler, interesting. That or he's just driven to complete boredom. You can't ever eliminate that last one. You immerse yourself in your own doodles. Oh look, is that a tasty martini that has appeared on your page? Yep. That is totally a martini. Damn hands, you're in school, keep it clean! Let's draw some cats instead. Yep, those are some pretty fine looking cats there.

"Is that a martini?"

Putting your hands on your hips you look up at Jake. "The whole god damn page is full of fucking cats and you pick out the martini. I think you got a problem Jakey. This is coming from a friend," you set a hand on his shoulder, "get some help."

Is that a smile on Mr. English's face? Agent Roxy, you have accomplished mission impossible, you are now promoted to general. Oh, but now you need an awesome general name, like something badass. Beware of general Friglish or no. Never try to create a kickass name with your dead cat's name. You'll have to do some brain storming later.

"Excuse me, but I'm pretty sure the martini takes up half of the page." He motions to the size of your good looking martini, which does indeed take up half of the page. Man, just looking at that thing is making you thirsty. Oh, that's right! It's time to get you and Jake to lunch. With a "Whatever," directed at Jake, you close your note book and shove to into your bag.

He seems to manage the hallway better than you expected. He walks next to you as you yammer on. Doesn't say much, does he? You remember him being pretty sociable online, but you figure he's changed quite a bit since then. You two make it to the lunch room alive and you see Dirk relax at that fact as soon as you walk in the door. Plopping down across from Dirk and Jane, Jake seems to relax. You notice that they picked the table in the far corner. It's usually quieter over here. Jake will probably be more comfortable, or you hope so.

Dirk starts questioning Jake as soon as he sits down. It takes ten minutes for Jake to convince dirk that he is okay. Jakey is tough cookie. You think he can handle school. He does have all of you now and if you know Dirk, he's not going to let anything happen to Jake. Oh boy, you think you have a new otp. Dirk obviously has the hots for Jake and Jake is the distressed heroine. Jake is used to a life of loneliness and Dirk has love to spare. Dirk will come along all Prince Charmingish and sweep Jake off his feet. They will graduate high school being the class cuties, then they will get married and have adopted babies together. Omg, you could be like auntie Roxy. You tear your eyes away from the gay hotties to sneak a glance at Janey who is nibbling at her salad while her beautiful blue eyes roam over her book. Completely oblivious to everything. Okay, maybe the gay boys aren't your first otp.

Taking another bite of her salad, she notices you staring. She gives you a bright smile and sets down her book. "Hey."

"What you reading?"

"Oh," she shrugs, "nothing that you would be interested in."

"Hey, you never know until you try." You offer.

"Okay," she looks unsure, but continues anyway. "Well, it's a documentary about World War Two. I myself wouldn't have picked it up, but I have to read it for history class. It's not as bad as I feared though. It's actually quite interesting. It's from the perspective of a German officer who worked on the transportation lines. He seems like such an insignificant person, but his story is truly remarkable."

She's right, you have absolutely no interest in World War Two. You nod and half listen to her though. Her voice is pretty. Honestly, you could probably listen to her talk all day. Jane's usually pretty quiet, but get her started on something, she doesn't shut up. That's how you like it though.

You soon notice she has caught someone else's attention as well. Jake seems to have weaseled his way out of his conversation with Dirk to join you on listening to Jane talking your ear off. Jane soon realizes this and turns her attention to Jake.

"Is your class reading it too?"

Slowly Jake shakes his head. "No, I don't believe we are. The book just sounds interesting."

Jane instantly lights up like she always does when someone shows interest in something she likes. Beware of the onslaught Jake. "Really?" She leans forward a bit more towards Jake. "You take an interest in historical documentaries?"

"I guess?" He answers unsure of himself. Boy, you got to get this kid some self-confidence.

Jane notices his hesitation and laughs. "It's not an essay question Jake. I'm just wondering what you're interested in." She prompts him.

His slightly bucked teeth nibble at his lip as his gaze drops to the table. "Well, I haven't read many books like that."

Her smile drops a little. "Oh." She glances down at the book in her hands and you know instantly what Jane's going to do.

Jane slides the book down the table, in surprise Jake catches it and looks up.

"If you think you might like it, then you can read it." Her smile returns to her face and poor Jake just looks flustered.

He starts to push the book back towards her. "Don't you need it for class?"

Jane rolls her eyes and puts her hand on top of Jakes to keep him from moving the book. "I can get a different one. Read it."

As Jane removes her hand, Jakes eyes dart from hers to the book and back, as if checking if she was serious. You admit that's pretty damn cute. Jake slowly opens the book while keeping a curious eye on Jane, but after he falls into that book, there's no hope of return. Nobody tries to disturb him after that. You all just carry on the conversation and leave little Jakey to his book.

When the bell rings and you all get up to continue on the day Dirk has to snap Jake back to reality. Jake surfaces from his book looking confused, but when he closes the cover he looks plain out sad. Out of the corner of your eye you see Janey smiling like a thousand bucks. She doesn't smile like that anymore. Look, Jake has already made a change in your lives. Fate has one fucked up mind, but you got a feeling that Jakes going to help you all. For better or for worse.

* * *

English, the last hour of the day. It has been five hours of a worrying hell for you. You couldn't focus in any if your classes, your mind was consumed with the fear that Jake might do something stupid. You have already decided that you're inviting him over after school and not letting him out of your sight until post first day stress has dissipated. Sure, it's a little over protective, but you can't stand to let anything happen to him again.

Jakes previous hour was gym, so you are currently standing outside the locker room waiting to escort Jake to your only shared class. You almost miss him in the rush of kids that comes out, but you catch him by the arm and pull him to you before he gets lost.

He takes to your grip with shock. He swings his arms in panic until he realizes it's you who is holding him. Upon seeing you, Jake immediately stops fussing and smiles sheepishly. You have to say that is pretty damn cute.

With Jake in tow, you continue on to the English wing. Glancing over at him, he seems content. Nothing like this morning where he was trying to be brave, now he walks naturally, he looks like he has been in school all his life. Of course you notice how he walks slightly behind you as if you are a shield against the thick crowd, but if someone would just simply glance his way, he would blend in perfectly.

That's the key to surviving school, as you learned long ago, don't stand out and just become one of the many average students who walk these hallways. For a kid who never had to deal with society, he caught on pretty quick. You would say that you're proud, but you're kind of sad about it. You always loved how free spirited Jake was. A boy who never had to have a care in the world and could always make you smile, is now a shadow who now needs someone to smile for. You could blame society, but you could just as easily blame yourself.

As you approach the room you open the door and usher Jake inside. When you two enter Ms. Noir instinctively narrows her eyes at you, but after the moment it takes her to remember Jake, her eyes widen. It might be your imagination, but you swear you could even see her smile as you lead Jake to the seat next to yours. Though you would really hate to thank Ms. Noir for anything, you can't forget that Jake is still alive because of her and what little heart she has.

It's not long after you have sit down that Ms. Noir has come up to Jake and starts telling him about everything he has missed. She gives Jake a quick over view of the unit you are on right now, which is poetry, and she even tells Jake he can talk to her whenever he wants. Okay, maybe if you don't fall asleep during her class, she's not half bad.

Ms. Noir stands up, but instead of returning to the front of the class room, she looks at you and back to Jake. "I hope Mr. Strider has been a helpful resource to you as well."

"Dirk?" Jake smiles and looks at you. "Yes, of course he has. I couldn't have gotten through the day without him."

For once you see Ms. Noir genuinely smile. Not in a mocking way, or a threatening way, or even in a plotting way, just in a happy way. "I'm glad to hear that."

As she returns to the front of the room, Jake turns to you and whispers, "Golly, she's quite a nice teacher, isn't she?"

You can't help but laugh to yourself. "Yeah, I guess she is." You tell him.


	6. ==> Jake Breakdown

You're at their house. It's quiet now. Dirk sits across the table from you doing homework, Jane was gracious enough to offer to make dinner, and Roxy is... somewhere. Thanks to Jane's through explanation, you're able to write meaningless numbers down and get praised for it. You don't see the point in this school work.

 

The day had been nice though. The confusing classes weren't that bad. Everyone helped you so much. They even invited you over to help you with homework, even though it seemed more like Dirk didn't want you to leave his sight. You don't blame him though.

 

Keeping your eyes trained on the problem you should be doing, a small smile forms on your lips thinking about your friends. They make you smile and laugh. The world isn't such a scary place with them. Slowly your smile slips away as your thoughts keep turning further and further away from the problem on the page.

 

Like thoughts about how terrifying the world still is. The people, the city, the school, but mainly the people. How they all look at you. Whether they mean for their eyes to sweep over you or not, you can still feel the eyes. Only for milliseconds at a time, but with the mass amount of people in this city that fill the streets and the school, you are never free of the eyes.

 

The scariest part about it all, is that you never know what crosses a person’s mind for those brief seconds they acknowledge your existence. It all happens so fast and does it even mean anything? Does a first impression even mean anything? 

 

If you were dead you wouldn’t have to worry about peoples preying eyes or their thoughts. People would make no difference. If you had died you would never had made such wonderful friends, but you wouldn't need them like you do now. The sinking feeling comes back.

 

That feeling so deep that you fear it will drag you down so far you'll never be able to escape. From the hole that forms in the pit of your stomach shouts your worst fears and insecurities. You're alone, but Dirk is right there. You're eyes dart up from your page and study him. He's right there because he cares about you. You can see his eyes through the glasses dart back and forth, studying the page. Your breath quickens, as if trying to fill the hole before you fall too far. Dirk is so far away, he's safe from suction of the pit. Completely oblivious. You're alone in this fight. The hole gets bigger.

 

Griping at the edges, you call out for help, but the words won't come. It's sucking you in, draining your strength. He doesn't notice you need help. You can't move, you're falling. There's no air here, you're falling too fast, faster than your tears. Its dark, Dirks’ face is blurred as he looks up in alarm. He says something, but you can only hear the pounding of your heart. He runs over, but you don't think he'll be able to catch you, you're falling too fast.

 

His strong arms wrap around you, but they can't stop you. You're gone, there's nothing left inside you but a hole. Why can't you come back? Dirk is there now, he can help you, but you're still so alone. You wrap your arms around Dirk and press your body against his. His heart beat echoes in your ears along with your own. You're not alone, but the loneliness won't go away.

 

A fragile hand gently touches your back. It moves up and down your spine in a comforting motion.

 

"Deep breaths," a sweet voice mummers.

 

It reminds you of your grandmothers voice when you were little. Whenever you would fall and scrape your knee, she would rub your back and tell you to take deep breaths until you stopped crying. Then she would kiss your scrape and tell you it was all better. It's going to be okay. Maybe it will be.

 

Without realizing you listen to the voice and your tears come to an end as well. The arms around you are warm and comforting, you decide to focus on those instead of the falling sensation that seems to slowing down. After a few minutes of relishing in the comforting gestures, you have finally landed in an unsure place. You’re dazed and confused, but you're somewhere solid. A solid place you need to face whether you want to or not. Reality is one of those impossible monsters you can never seem to hide from.

 

Opening your eyes and letting the harsh light from the dining room invade your damp eyes, you find that your face is buried in Dirk's shirt. Slowly you lift your head up. Your glasses are crooked, but you don't let go of Dirk to fix them. A small hand reaches up and fixes them for you, cupping the side of your face afterwards.

 

Turning your head you find yourself looking at a very worried Jane. It seems she is kneeling beside you and Dirk. Wait, you're on the floor? Okay then. Dirk's arms loosen a little from their tight grip around your torso and you turn to look at him.

 

"You okay now?" Surprisingly, he looks just as concerned as Jane.

 

Swallowing, you nod and unwrap yourself from Dirk. You're about to push yourself out of his lap, but he holds you there. He examines you through his shades. You have to say it’s a little uncomfortable.

 

"Are you sure?" He interrogates. You can feel his eyes boring into you and you wish he would just let you go.

 

Looking away from him, you nod again, but he doesn't let go.

 

"Tell me you're okay Jake."

 

You're not a child, you can take care of yourself, but regardless you look back into his shades and stable your voice as best you can. "I'm fine now Dirk. You can let go."

 

His jaw clenches slightly as he lets go and you stand up. Looking at the table you see Jane has set dinner on it. She and Dirk both rise from the floor and you all stand a little awkwardly.

 

"I'll go get the rest of the food," Jane says with a forced smile, "Dirk, do you mind finding Roxy? I wouldn't want for her food to get cold."

 

Dirk nods, "Sure thing."

 

Jane doesn't move as Dirk leaves room. Glancing over at her, she's staring off in space. Clearing your throat, she jumps slightly and turns to you.

 

"Would you help me in the kitchen?"

 

"Of course." You nod and follow her into the kitchen.

 

Walking into the kitchen you see the works of a jolly good dinner. Jane quickly tends to the pots still simmering on the stove and you look around for a way to help her. Seeing a stack of dinner plates sitting out, you decide you can make yourself useful by setting them out.

 

Before you can pick up the plates, Jane turns on you and blurts, "What happened?"

 

You stand there a bit awkwardly not knowing if you can even explain yourself, but it seems you don't have to, as Jane starts searching for words again.

 

"I don't mean to make you angered," she adds quickly, "but I just, I mean," she sighs and looks down at the spoon she still has in her hands, "I heard a loud noise, so I went to go check on you all and," she pauses and looks up at you, those beautiful blue eyes burdened with worry. "When I saw you had collapsed like that, I was really scared Jake. I feared that maybe the day was too much for you, or something serious had happened. I haven't seen Dirk that emotional over something in long time. I worry about you, Jake."

 

"You shouldn't-"

 

"Well I'm going to!" She declares, as she shakes her spoon at you for emphasis.

 

It's your turn to rebut, but you're not quite sure what to say. Jane stares at you for a bit before taking a step forward. Instinctually you take a step back only to jam your back into the counter. The thought occurs to you that your fright might have offended Jane, but when you check, she smiles softly and gently takes the few steps across the kitchen to you.

 

Standing in front of you, Jane looks up at you. Her stare is friendly, almost mother like you think. Though you stand a head taller than Jane, her mother like aura belittles the authority your height gives you. She's one of those people that you learned to trust easily without even realizing it. If she wants to know something, you don't think you could bring yourself to keep it from her.

 

Knowing you'll fall apart if she asks what happened again, you brace yourself; but instead of the onslaught you were expecting, she raises her arms in a gesture you have become familiar with of late. At first she hesitates, asking for permission, when you make no move to stop her, she wraps her arms around your torso and pulls you close. Her small hands grip your shirt and her soft, dark hair tickles your chin as buries her face against your shoulder.

 

You can feel the life in Jane. You can feel the rapid beat of her heart against your own chest and feel the little breaths she exhales against your neck. In a moment those soft breaths are vibrations on your neck, words.

 

"Jake," Jane starts softly, "I really do worry about you and if you don't want to tell me what happened, I understand, but-" her voice wavers and she pauses to take a deep breath "but at least tell me you're okay now."

 

Instead of answering right away, you find yourself wrapping your arms around her as well. It seems your embrace comforts her. Her muscles relax and she leans against you. You presume Jane is waiting for you to speak, but you stay silent and hold her. You don’t want to speak and ruin the peace that has been created. Maybe this is exactly what you needed. You don’t quite understand why hugs are so comforting, but you now understand why everyone insists on giving them to you.

 

The two of you stay like that until you hear spirited laughter coming down the hallway. Releasing her from your arms, she turns back to the finished food on the stove and you reach for the plates. Dirk and Roxy’s murmurs can be heard from the next room and they’re probably curious to where dinner is. Taking the plates out you pause at the door way and say over your shoulder, “I am okay. Now at least.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dirk takes the time of day to track you down, god knows that took effort, and then you both sit down to empty table. Jake came out with the plates soon after, but you decided that you needed to take matters in to your own hands. Coming into the kitchen you don’t know what in the heavens you expected to see, but you sure weren’t expecting to find Jane leaning against the stove smiling at a pot like it just popped the big question. You understand her love for cooking, but you fear this has gone too far. She might need help.

 

Knowing it’s better to confront the problem sooner than later, you walk up behind her and set a hand on her shoulder. Jane jumps in surprise.

 

“Roxy!” she exclaims with a huff. “You took me by surprise there.”

 

“I wasn’t in stealthy mode Janey,” you inform her.

 

“Well, I must have been distracted.”

 

You give her a long, knowing look. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

 

Jane is taken aback. “What?”

 

“I’m your best friend Jane; you can tell me anything.”

 

Poor Janey looks so confused. “Of course Roxy, but I honestly have no clue what you are talking about.”

 

“Tell me about that pot Jane,” you prompt her.

 

“The pot?” She looks at the stove and back at you even more befuddled.

 

“Yes,” you point to the one closest to the edge, “that one right there.”

 

“It’s a pot?”

 

“Now don’t be fresh with me Jane.”

 

“Good lord Roxy!” Jane exclaims. “Just tell me what you’re trying to get at here!”

 

“I was sitting out there at the table getting all impatient,” you explain, “and I decided to come on in here to see what the holdup was, and-“

 

“Oh dear, I should bring this out there!”

 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You stop her. “I’m not done with my story yet.”

 

Jane sighs. “Hurry it along then.”

 

"So I came on in here and I see you staring at this pot like it’s the love of your life. You know, the whole goofy grin and loving stare. You’re allowed to love cooking and all, but I-“

 

“Roxy”

 

“Don’t think this is best-“

 

“Roxy!”

 

“Way to- huh?”

 

Jane has her hands covering her face and she takes a big sigh before removing them. “Roxy, I’m not in love with a pot.”

 

“Well, that’s what I figured,” you admit.

 

“Then what is it you are trying to prove?”

 

“What you and Jake were in her doin’ instead of setting the table.” You add an eyebrow wiggle for emphasis.

 

“Talking,” she answers shortly. Too shortly.

 

“Aaaaand?”

 

“And we hugged. Is it just me or do you have to most perverted mind in this house?”

 

“It’s not just you Janey,” you laugh as Jane picks up the pot and finally starts to transfer its contents top a bowl. “But in all seriousness, that’s adorbs.”

 

“It’s nothing and that’s all it will ever be,” Jane declares as she walks out the door with the bowl.

 

“Sure it is,” you mock, trailing after her.

* * *

 

It was late when you finally returned to Aradia’s house. Knowing you have to face another round of school in the morning sleeping would be the most logical thing to do, but you can’t resist the urge to pull out the book Jane gave you. Just a few chapters won’t hurt, you tell yourself as you lay back on the bed.

The crash from the kitchen wasn't the unusual sound that drove you to close the enticing book, it was the yelling. Sometimes Aradia yells when she accidentally breaks something, but there was a lower voice that was doing most the shouting.

Creeping out of your room, you can hear their words more clear in the hallway.  The curious thing is the time. It was almost ten o’clock when you returned to Aradia’s house and you’ve been reading for close to an hour. No one would come for a visit at this time of night; would they?

You shuffle to the top of the stairs and listen. You don’t know what you would do if Aradia was in any sort of danger, but you surely wouldn't just sit around. A quick vow to yourself ensures that you would do anything you must to help Aradia if she is ever in any danger, just like a true gentleman would.

There's a moment of silence before you can make out the deeper voice, "No, shit, don't cry AA. I'm not mad, just thocked, s-shocked. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Aradia's voice comes much softer, so you take a careful step down the stair case.

"I couldn't leave him, and I don't know. I'm sorry." You catch Aradia’s whispers from the kitchen.

"Fuck, no, AA, don't be thorry. It's just that you're twenty five!" The male voice becomes louder. "What the hell are you doing with a kid? You're not exactly mother material."

You take another few steps down, to avoid losing the quiet side of the conversation.

"That's why I need help."

"Like hell I'm raising a kid!"

"It's not like Jake's a little kid. He's a fifteen year old who-"

"Is fucking suicidal."

At those words, you halt your descent and grip the banister. The house is silent. The grandfather clock ticks agonizingly five times before Aradia's sob breaks the silence. There is a movement of fabric and then her sobs are muffled with gentle murmurs. But still you are frozen until the male speaks again.

"What have you done Aradia?" He asks rhetorically. "It's not your fault." He rebuts to Aradia's murmured reply. "Something’s are meant to happen."

"How about him being bullied?" Her voice raises and you flinch. "Or trying to commit suicide in my house, on my watch? Is he 'meant' to be forced to be put through hell?"

"Some people don't belong on this earth."

"Sollux!" She screams, and you debate whether you want to continue your eaves dropping or retreat back to your room, but you have to say you are intrigued with this stranger.

The man joins the screaming, "Thome of uth are better off dead!"

"Stop," Aradia commands firmly.

"If he hath no reason to live, you can't just create one. It's not that eathy."

"Sollux, stop,” Aradia begs, but the man continues on as if he hadn’t even heard her.

"What liberty do you have to put yourself in the way of that boy's happiness?!"

"I said stop!" She cries and you find yourself at the bottom of the staircase and creeping towards the kitchen.

"Face reality Aradia. If you can't hear it, the plea, then you can't take care of the damn kid."

Aradia sniffles, but stays quiet. You know you shouldn’t be here, your every instinct tells you to go upstairs, but curiosity always kills the cat and you dare to peek into the kitchen. Still hidden, you can only see Aradia's red face streaming with tears and the man, Sollux, running his hands through his messy, black hair. You can't see his front, but you’re sure he is distressed as well. He wears a simple tee-shirt and jeans with tennis shoes. You're not quite sure how you feel about him. He made Aradia cry, but he seems different form everyone else. You're interested in what he has to say.

He seems to have calmed from his rage as he continues, "You don't understand what you've gotten yourself into. It's not going to be easy. The kid wants to die and he's going to try it again. I promithe you! Sure he's only tired it twice, but he’s thinking about it every day. Every damn day!" His voices cracks and his hands pull at his hair. He takes a deep shaky breath before continuing. "Every day he wonderth, why me? He dreamth about it. Not having to put up with the world any more. Juth disappearing. You may want to change that, but it takes more than juth medication. It taketh purpothe,” he pauses as his lisp becomes worse, but continues after taking a frustrated, deep breath, “purpose and it's hard. Too fucking hard. Death is so much easier than this shit."

Taking your eyes off the man, you look back at Aradia's enraged face.

You don't like to see her cry, but he's right. Her hands cover her face and she taking effort to control herself. The man, Sollux, wraps his arms around her and they stay like that for a bit before Aradia speaks again.

"I don't know what to do," she whispers, "I need your help."

He laughs dryly. "I would just make things worse."

"Then what do I do?"

He pulls away and shakes his head. "That’s what I mean. You're insane if you’re asking me for help. I don't think there’s anything you can do."

"I'm not giving him away," she shoots back.

"I don't want to lose you Aradia."

"What?"

"If he does it-"

"It's not going to happen," she insists.

"But if he does, you'll never be the same. I couldn't stand to be deprived of the smile that makes you, you. You're all I have and that boy wants to die. You can't save everybody."

On the brink of tears again Aradia breaks eye contact with him and looks crossed the room, only to find you.  She looks startled, but you both just stare for a moment before she forces her smile to cover her blotchy cheeks and red eyes.

"Jake! I didn't see you there."

Sollux whips around and looks at you. He looks as jagged as he sounds. His bones jutting out, eyes cold and confused, skin pale and malnourished, and posture slightly slumped as if he doesn't have the energy to stand up straight. You feel both their eyes on you, Solluxs’ different colored eyes seeming to put the most pressure on you to make the next move. Two options are presented to you. One being you can pretend you didn't hear anything, the second being truthful.

Taking a deep breath you’re prepared to speak, but your voice only comes as a whisper. "He's right."

A small smirk quirks on Sollux's lips and Aradia has lets her halfhearted facade fall.

Sollux walks over to you and ruffles your hair. You freeze at the contact, but it's not completely unwelcome. Looking up, you meet his eyes. You're not sure what you see in there, but he smiles at what he sees in yours.

"Hey AA, I might actually get along with a kid for once."


End file.
